


Fiendin' and Ready to Blow

by thehyacinthgirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Praise Kink, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:34:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4493784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehyacinthgirl/pseuds/thehyacinthgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles manages to get broken bones in both arms/hands, leaving him in casts. Ten weeks is too long to go without jacking off. Luckily, Peter offers to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fiendin' and Ready to Blow

**Author's Note:**

> * Unbetaed, and not edited as well as it could be. Comments about anything helpful are welcome.  
> * Underage tag, because although I never set a timeline or anything, Stiles is still in school and probably still under 18.

He groaned, smothered by the thick covers, and his breath was hot against his face. Stiles finally opened his eyes, and peered over his pillow. The harsh red blinking of 5:45 am stared him back in the face. He watched it click to 5:46 am and he closed his eyes to ignore it before his door came open, with a creaked protest. 

"Come on, son. Back to the grind." His dad calls into his room, and retreats back downstairs. Stiles can hear the coffeepot running, and his dad's boots scraping against the hardwood. Stiles sighed and almost pushed himself up before crying out a bit, as he pushed up on his casts. He rolled over, and on to his feet without using his arms. His left arm was in a cast from hand to elbow, and his right hand was tightly wrapped with a smaller cast. 

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, the pack going out for a midnight run, with the humans joining in since it wasn't a full moon yet. Stiles had been running with Scott and Isaac every morning for the last couple months, reluctantly at first but has found a relaxing quality to it.

The night they ran, it was clear and cold enough for long sleeves but not enough for a jacket. Stiles could feel the air sucking in, and pushing out as he pressed himself into action behind the wolves of the pack. Allison was almost on their heels, and Stiles not far behind. It was a great feeling -- until he didn't raise his foot high enough over a root, and went crashing down. He landed hard on his left arm, and could feel the cracking of his bones as he went down. He tried to push out his other hand to make sure not to smash his face, which cracked his palm when he landed on a hidden rock. All that refreshing air whooshed from his body, and he rolled on his back, heavy and covered in rich, dark dirt and tiny scratchy leaves. 

He could count the seconds in slow motion before the pain radiated through him enough to yell. The pack was already closing in, and Stiles could finally pull in a breath when Scott touched him and took his pain. After going to the hospital to cast his hands, the pack went back to the loft to watch a movie, and pile across Stiles. He felt bad the run ended because of him, but painkillers and touchy wolves taking his pain helped nip that in the bud. 

He spent most of the weekend sleeping and binge watching The Flash on his laptop. Stiles is just not ready for school, although hopefully the fact he's unable to use either of his hands to write should keep him from dealing with homework. His dad wrapped his arms up in plastic last night to shower, so he doesn't have to worry about it this morning. He struggles through trying to brush his teeth, but fails. Ten weeks at least of having his dad or the pack help him do basic tasks. 

He can't even ask for help for the one task he can't stop thinking of. 

 

After a long day of trying to ignore his uncooperative libado, and after trying to sit still on the bench while watching Scott kick ass on the lacrosse field, Stiles went back to the locker room with Scott, while he got his stuff together. Scott pulled off his uniform, and Stiles caught himself staring at the muscles in his back. Isaac came from the showers, a towel around his waist and his hair dripping. 

Scott kicked Stiles' foot. 

"Seriously, dude, can you stop thinking whatever dirty thoughts are running around in there?" Scott taps his finger on the side of his nose, and Stiles groans, having momentarily forgotten the the fact the 'wolves can smell arousal. 

"Christ, I'm done. I'm done." Stiles jumped up off the bench, and turned to Scott. "I am not going to make it ten freaking weeks."

 

After practice, they drive to Derek's loft, with Stiles wallowing in his misery. 

"It's been almost a week, Scotty, I'm dying. I will die from this." Stiles flops down on the couch once they get through the door. 

"I really don't want to hear how desperate you are to jack off, dude." Scott sits down in the opposite chair. 

"Okay, for one, you are the king of oversharing. Especially with your sex life. I'm sorry mine doesn't have a supporting role filled yet. And two, I'm gonna tell you anyway. I pretty much humped my bed. Besides, masturbation is healthy."

"Well, didn't Malia tell you she wanted some friends with benefits thing months ago?" 

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure she would bite my head off after sex like a praying mantis or something. She hugged me once and I don't think she quite understood the whole I'm human, you shouldn't crush my ribs issue. I'm desperate but not quite there yet."

 

The pack meeting was uneventful and mostly just a chance for Scott and Derek to go over training and various topics to feel like they were leading something. It always turned into a chance to watch a movie, puppy pile and eat popcorn. Stiles followed Scott and Isaac while they made popcorn in the kitchen. On the way back, he stopped to use the bathroom, taking longer than he felt okay admitting to get his pants unzipped so he could pee. But once that task was done, he could head back out to the living room. 

Peter came out of the one of the doorways, and stopped Stiles before he could make it to the living room.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked, his brow furrowed as Peter pulled him by his shirt into the bedroom nearest to them. He shut the door. Stiles' back was pressed against the door, and Peter's body instantly warm against his. One hand held Stiles in place at his hip, and the other against Stiles' collarbone. 

"I can help you with that problem." Peter smirks. 

"What problem?" Stiles swallowed. 

"I hear you complaining to Scott." Peter's gaze making an obvious look down. 

"I can manage without your help, creeperwolf." Stiles says, trying to keep his voice level.

"But I think you want it, Stiles." Peter's hand on his hip had come up his shirt, and Stiles can feel his blunt nails dragging slightly down his stomach, and coming down to unbutton his jeans. "You can tell me to stop at any time and I'll leave you alone to your complaining. Or you can be a good boy, and if you beg really nicely, I'll tell you when you can cum for me."

"Fuck off, Peter." Stiles shot back without any real conviction. Peter's fingertips rested on the button of his jeans. 

"Yes or no, sweetheart." 

"Yes." Stiles let out a breath and let his head fall back against the door. Peter took the invitation and brought his mouth to Stiles' jawline, nipping gently with his teeth, and licking down to his throat. Stiles turned his head, the submission forcing a low growl from Peter. His jeans were undone and his cock relieved from its confines. Stiles bit his lip with a moan, as Peter's hand gripped him, and began to stroke slowly. 

"I want to hear you." Peter commanded, his breath warm against his collarbone. 

"Everyone is still downstairs. You don't think they will be up those stairs in a second if I'm yelling your name?" Stiles remarked, while trying to rock his hips to get Peter to go faster, unsuccessfully. 

"I'm sure you can be quiet enough for them not to hear you, and still show me what a good little slut you can be for me." Peter's thumb was rubbing his collarbone on one side while he was sucking a bruise on the other, his pace on Stiles' cock achingly slow. 

Peter rolls his thumb over the slit, and uses Stiles' slick precum to slide up and down his cock. Stiles' ragged breath and the slight tapping of his cast against the door are the only sounds he is making. 

"I have to say, as much fun as it is to hear you speechless, I wonder what you would sound like crying my name as I take you apart." Peter hums into Stiles' ear, slightly increasing his pace. "If we had more time, I would see how pretty those lips would look around my cock, and you on your knees for me. I would stretch you out with my fingers until you beg to be filled."

Peter buries his face in Stiles' neck and his fangs drop, and bite gently in the soft spot behind Stiles' ear. Stiles is overwhelmed by the heat it sends to his groin and the danger Peter still poses. He is almost ashamed by how much it turns him on to be at Peter's mercy. Even with the pack nearby, no one would be able to get to him in time. The moment Peter's hand leaves his hip, he's grinding up against Peter, slowing his jerking him off, but connecting him to the bulge in Peter's jeans. He can just imagine what's Peter's describing, his cock thick in his mouth, spit running down his chin. Peter's fingers pumping in and out of him while he says such lovely, dirty things in his ear. 

"Suck." Peter commands, bringing two fingers to Stiles' mouth. Stiles obeys immediately, wrapping his lips around, and moaning as he does. His fingers are wet with spit when he releases them. 

"You want me to fill you up, sweetheart?" Peter strokes him, letting his dick rub against the fabric of his jeans, the friction almost unbearable. 

"Yes, please, Peter." Stiles replies. 

"Come on, pet, you can beg better than that." 

"Please.. please fill me up, Daddy. I want you so bad." Stiles begs. He tries to jerk his hips up into Peter's grip, the mercy of not being able to use his hands to get ahold of Peter is making Stiles shake with want, his touch just on the edge. Stiles needs more. 

"Good boy." Peter slides his spit-wet fingers down Stiles' ass and rubs at his opening. Stiles gasps. 

"More, Daddy." He huffs as Peter teases, just barely pressing. 

"Such a good little slut for me, aren't you, darling? Begging so pretty for Daddy, all for me." Peter licks and bites Stiles' ear. 

"Yes, I'm all yours, please." Peter lets out a low growl and his eyes flash before he turns his head to catch Stiles' open gasp as Peter slides a finger past the muscle. Stiles clenches slightly before relaxing into his touch. Peter is barely moving his other hand on Stiles' cock as he slides his finger in and out, stretching Stiles enough. 

"Ready for another, sweet boy?" Stiles answers by biting Peter's bottom lip and kissing him, desperately. Peter slides their tongues together, and then pulls back to watch Stiles' face as he adds another finger into Stiles' tight hole. Even with Stiles' spit easing the way, it's slow going. Stiles looks blissed out, loving the feeling of Peter filling him. He imagines how full he would feel with Peter's cock instead. 

"Oh, Daddy, just like that." Stiles moans, bouncing on his feet to fuck himself on Peter's fingers. Peter laughs. 

"So impatient. One day, I'll have to tie you to my bed and teach you how to be patient for me, to bring you to the edge over and over before finally giving in."

Peter pulls his hips back so he can pump Stiles' cock faster, while still fingering him. His pace increases as he sucks more bruises along his collarbone. Stiles can feel his orgasm building up, and lets out a little whimper. 

"That's my good boy. You've been perfect. Come for me." Peter grips his cock tighter, while pushing his fingers against Stiles' prostate, making him dig his toes into the floor. 

Stiles pants harshly as he shoots over Peter's hand, and across his own stomach, his hole clenching against Peter's fingers. Peter smiles, and lifts his hand to Stiles' mouth. Stiles opens up to lick his cum off Peter's hand. The pleased look Peter gets is worth the taste. Peter wipes off the cum off his chest and feeds that to him as well. Peter kisses Stiles and it's softer than before. Peter grabs a wet washcloth from the bathroom to clean them up and helps Stiles redress. 

"If you find yourself needing more before your casts come off, you know where to find me." Peter grins, and goes out the door. 

Stiles stands there for a minute, smiling to himself, before going back downstairs. He plops down next to Scott on the couch. Scott wrinkles his nose. 

"Dude, you reek. Derek's gonna be pissed if you just rubbed yourself off on his furniture. How did you even get your pants down?" Scott shakes his head. "Nevermind, I don't want to know." He gets a few weird looks but honestly, it's not the first time he has come to a pack meeting smelling like his own special scent. At least since Peter didn't get off, they can't really tell he was there for it. Peter's scent is pretty heavy in Derek's loft anyway. Stiles guesses Peter must have ducked out without anyone noticing since it would have been harder to explain him smelling like Stiles jacked off on him. 

Derek walks closer to Erica to talk to her, and passes by Stiles. He stops, once he smells him. 

"Really? You couldn't have waited until you got home?" Stiles laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> * Title is from Simon Curtis' "Flesh" which is basically my Steter theme song.  
> * You can also thank the lovely people in the [Steter Chatzy](http://us19.chatzy.com/72400097218690) for making me love Daddykink and Steter much more than I did. This is my first attempt at writing daddykink and it feels weird, but hopefully it comes off better to anyone other than me.  
> * My Tumblr is [Trope Queen](http://tropequeen.tumblr.com).


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